


if things went differently

by yuhee



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew POV, Canon Rewrite, M/M, Post-Canon, The King's Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8333953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuhee/pseuds/yuhee
Summary: The day Neil Josten disappeared on the Foxes, he had died in a fire incident along with his father and his men. Or so they said. Because Andrew now sees the man in flesh and bones at a city in England after two years.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i saw an ask on [tumblr](http://broship-addict.tumblr.com/post/146441243767/ok-so-neil-for-whatever-reason-doesnt-come-back) and my head went ahead of me and wrote this out. 
> 
> credits to the anon/tumblr user for the idea! (i did make some minor changes here and there)

Andrew was strolling through the city of Birmingham. He was alone, and his teammates were all getting shut-eye in the hotel for their big game tomorrow— a ten hour ride on the plane was too much, it seemed; jet-lag, was it called. Though it was only a quarter past three in the afternoon, and Andrew concluded it was wiser to spend his time exploring the city than to fuck with his sleep schedule.

He took sight of a small coffee shop a few blocks away, and halted for a short moment before walking his way towards it. Some caffeine in his system could be of use to rid of his awaiting fatigue.

There was a line of people waiting for him when he approached the counter. Andrew stopped behind a man few inches taller than him, and flicked his eyes around the coffee shop with little interest. It was not until the man in front of him spoke that made his eyes turn to the front.

“I’d like a venti pumpkin spice latte, please.”

There was a distinct accent, but Andrew would recognize that voice anywhere.

The man moved aside to make way for him in line, and stood with hands in his pockets. Andrew forced himself not to stare as he stepped forward. He ordered his own drink to the cashier behind the counter, and as he spoke, he could mildly sense the body next to him tense. At the corner of his eyes, he could see a head turning to look at him. It immediately whirled away after a glimpse.

“Neil Abram Josten.”

The man flinched. That single movement officially affirmed Andrew’s presumption.

“So you are alive,” Andrew said. He finally spared a glance at the man standing next to him. Auburn hair, faded clothes, icy blue eyes. The only thing that changed was the added scars to his face. “I thought you died?” he said with a small tilt of his head, well-knowing his face was showing nothing but apathy. He had to turn his eyes away from blue when the cashier before him announced his bill. After he made his payment, he slipped his wallet back into his back pocket, and moved to walk away from the counter. He stood a few meters away from Neil. The distance was not small.

“Julian.”

Andrew watched as Neil reacted to the name with a jolt, eyes trailing the way how he extended his hands to receive the cup of coffee from the barista— he wore gloves, Andrew saw. He turned his eyes away. It was a minute or two before ‘Julian’ took a step towards him, and spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he said. At that, Andrew shifted his eyes to look at auburn hair, blue eyes, faded clothes. His eyes stopped at the scars on Neil’s face.

“Sorry changes nothing. You should know better,” he said, with his eyes shifting to look at blue ones again. “Elaborate,” he said, and Neil swallowed. Neil mustered up a smile, but Andrew thought it pointless.

“I will. But not here.”

When the barista called out Andrew’s name, both of them turned their heads at the call. Andrew extended one hand to accept the drink, nodding his head at the barista in thanks.

“Follow me,” Neil said. He walked out of the coffee shop instantly. Andrew stood still for a short moment, before moving to follow. He made sure to trail closely behind, and both of them walked their way past crowds for the next few minutes. Eventually, Neil turned a sharp right, and they headed into a building. They were now walking up stairwells, and it was after many flights of stairs they reached to a certain metal-like door. Neil pulled at the handle, and the door creaked open with a loud displeasing noise. As they stepped out, it was then Andrew realized they were on a foreign building’s rooftop.

Andrew flicked an unamused look at Neil’s way.

“For old times’ sake?” Andrew said. He saw Neil wearing that pointless smile again, and he had a sudden urge to tear it off his face. He looked away, and walked himself further towards the edge of the roof. He flicked his eyes downwards, and felt a terrible waver quivering inside him— it was good to know his phobia of heights was still existent.

He placed his coffee down on the ledge, and sat down with his legs swinging off the roof. He took out his pack of cigarettes and lit one, silently offering it to the man now settling next to him. When Neil was aware of the extended lit cigarette between his fingers, Andrew observed how he stared intensely at it. When Neil was taking too long to respond, Andrew withdrew his hand, and took a long drag out of it. It was then Neil snatched it away. He watched as Neil only let the cigarette burn in his gloved hands.

“Elaborate,” Andrew said.

Neil finally turned his head to look at him, and there was a glint in his eyes that tugged at Andrew’s insides— he loathed how those eyes were always too expressive.

“My uncle was the one who brought me here. Uncle Stuart? He thought it was best I stayed here under his protection,” Neil said. He paused for a while, and spoke again. “Do you know everything?”

“Everything? No. The alleged how and why you disappeared? Yes. The reason for your staged death? Now, that’s unclear,” Andrew said. He ignored the flinch he received, and brought another cigarette out, lighting one for himself. “I choked the answers out of Kevin until he told me everything he knows. Guess you weren’t an orphan after all. You died in a fire along with your father and his men. Though here you are, in meats and bones. Why is that?” Andrew turned his eyes to look at Neil, and his eyes naturally landed on the ferocious scars on his face. He willed himself to look at eyes instead.

Neil swallowed, and Andrew waited.

“My uncle wanted me far away from the Moriyamas, where they couldn’t touch me. He said I could start a new life here— and leave everything behind. Of becoming a runaway, being afraid. It took me a while, but I’m slowly getting the hang of it,” Neil said. There the pointless smile was again, and Andrew fought the actual urge to claw it off.

“Forget everything,” Andrew said. The silence prolonged as he breathed in his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke. He flicked the butt. “Did you really?”

He could feel Neil tense a second time for the day, and Andrew finally flicked his cigarette off the roof. He picked up his cup of coffee, and brought it to his lips. “But that I am uninterested in. I want you to tell me what happened the moment you disappeared. Did your father die in the fire?” Andrew asked. Neil looked at him.

“No. There was no fire. Not when we were around,” Neil said. “My uncle executed him. Two bullets to the chest,” he said, with a pause, “I spent my whole life wishing he would die, but I thought he never would. I thought he was invincible. I can’t believe it was that easy.”

Andrew did not speak. He drank up his beverage, and gulped it all down until there was nothing left. He placed the cup aside when he was done, and immediately took another cigarette out, lighting it.

“What happened to your face?” Andrew asked. Surprisingly, Neil did not recoil at the question.

“Dashboard lighter,” Neil only said. Andrew turned to look at him.

“Your father?”

“His men.”

At that Andrew’s eyes immediately flicked to Neil’s gloved hands. “Take those off.”

Neil stared at him, but complied nonetheless. When he did, Andrew’s stomach almost did a double flip. Almost. He brought his eyes to look at icy blue ones again.

“Enough,” he said, and turned away. He lifted the cigarette towards his mouth, and inhaled, again, slowly. He breathed out grey smoke, and let his eyes wander over the city before them. There was a long moment of silence, and Andrew let it stay that way.

“I missed you,” Neil said, breaking it. Andrew brought his eyes to close, and opened them again to look at the man saying such sinful words. “I missed you, and the Foxes, but I had to do it. I have no regrets getting away from Palmetto State, if it meant keeping the Foxes away from harm,” Neil said. He was looking at him, now— and with a softer voice, he continued, “If it meant keeping _you_ away from harm.”

And that was the last straw. Andrew felt his jaw clench tight, and he flicked his cigarette off the roof another time. He moved his hand to dig in fingers around Neil’s face, and vigorously twisted it away.

“We never needed your pathetic protection, and I sure as fuck don’t as well. Stop looking at me like that,” Andrew said. Regardless, Neil still turned his head to look, and Andrew could not bring himself to do anything else. His hand stayed slack on Neil’s jaw, and his eyes stared at Neil’s watering eyes.

“How are they? Are they doing fine?” Neil asked. His voice was so steady, it was as though he was not tearing at all. Andrew looked on silently.

“They are well. More well than you, plausibly,” he said. He lightly pushed Neil’s face away, withdrawing his hand. He took his cigarette pack out, and realized a second too late that it was empty. Andrew clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Here,” Neil said. He handed him his own cigarette pack, and Andrew delightfully accepted it. He shook one cigarette out and lit it instantly. “Am I still at ninety-four?” Neil suddenly asked.

Andrew turned his eyes to look at blue, and huffed the inhaled cigarette smoke at Neil’s face.

“That was when you were alive. Technically, you’re dead. The percentage is invalid now,” Andrew said. He took another long drag off his cigarette stick, and exhaled.

“But I am alive now,” Neil said, and Andrew’s eyes flicked to icy blues once again. His eyes bored into them.

“Ninety-five, then.”

The smile on Neil’s face was finally one Andrew was fine with, and he had to bring his cigarette-held hand down. It was a while later he realized, slowly, he was starting to lean forward.

“Yes or no,” he found himself saying, and he was so close— too near to falling. It was repeating itself, and he knew better. He knew better, but—

Neil blinked, and something fond, tender settled in his eyes. Andrew hated those articulate eyes of his so much.

“It is always yes with you.”

And there wasn’t much to say after that.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't even know what i just wrote omg i only finished this series a few days ago and here i am already writing fics for this mess of a ship. but i got to say i sincerely _love_ writing andrew, i don't know why. it's torturous, but also somehow satisfying. we have never read andrew's point of view in the series itself so there's actually many chances of experimenting how he would react to things, how his inner dialogues would go. but it's also dangerous cause i'm afraid i might go too out of character. [BIG SHRUG] oh well hope i didn't with this one lol i tried my best.
> 
> also \o/ several quotes i've picked up from the novel itself!! try and see if you can spot them ((i'm sure you can))
> 
> ♪ Blackbear - idfc [remember to check the lyrics :') it is basically andrew to neil]


End file.
